Month: November 2004

Requested By
Kumar @ 02:51 pm | Nov 29th 2004
I need your blogs on Male-Male relationship and feelings. Thanx.

Sorry guys. Though I have nothing against gays, this post is not about them. This is about ‘male bonding`, which has been dying a natural death. And this post meanders like Narmada…that is…its on no specific topic…so if you are a focused guy/gal in life…stop reading. Other Neanderthals like me, can read on …

In the days of my father, a man had many other men as friends. And one among them would be his bosom pal. He would be the guy with whom everything would be shared – sometimes even that blue, cotton undies my father bought each time he visited the city.

But then those were the days. Yesterday, I was speaking to a class one student and he says he has a girl friend. I would not want to mention their names for want of privacy, but I am telling the truth.

“But you are a boy, why is your best friend a girl.” I ask the five-year-old.

“What will others think if I hang around with the boys? And anyways, a man is only half complete without a girl friend.”

Guess, he was inspired by the Raymond advertisement in which every male model comes with a lady in his arms, and the punch line goes: Raymond…For the Complete Man.

The innocent male bonding that we would indulge in as youngsters is no longer available. And the art of learning the different uses of beer, cigarette, manikchand and playing cards has forever been lost. Today, young men team up with young women and form a bonding.

You might wonder if I am being jealous here…for I am married and struck with one woman all my life. But believe me, I am not at all jealous looking at those long-legged, heavy busted, blondes that go around with handsome men like me.

I spoke to one dude nicknamed Romeo. Legend has it that he has never spent a rupee on any man, but has lost a fortune buying things for ladies and impressing them.

“Why not a man for a friend?” I ask.

“What would I get out of a man? I would get some advice, some A-jokes and some body odor. But this lady here hugs me and consoles me whenever I am sad…and I am sad most of the time.” He winks.

Looked like the Romeo was having a ball of a time. I pulled his lady-friend across and ask her: “So, how is it having a man-friend instead of a lady-friend?”

“Most of time he talks of bikes and cars. And when he is not talking of them, he talks of himself. But it is fine till he accompanies me for shopping and drops me back home.” She knew her man-management.

Amidst the storm, my father is the calm. He still believes a man needs another man for company.

“But papa, why do you think so?” I ask him.

“Coz, a lady needs balls to be a man.” He replied. Cricket balls or tennis balls, I forgot to ask him.

Once you are married, your transportation costs are bound to increase. When a bachelor, you would have come home after work and just stayed put. But a wife at home ensures that you go visit your friends and better your network.

She might not agree, but she also likes the times when you are away. She could catch up with her ex-boy friends, gossip with the neighbors or read a Cook Book to pass on a recipe as her own later in the day.

There is nothing to worry if your transportation costs are going up, but the moment your wife`s costs are on the up swing…you are doomed.

The first step to avoiding this is marrying somebody who has and knows to ride/drive a vehicle. When you tell the broker, or advertise in the newspaper insist that you are looking for a lady who has a vehicle, who knows to drive/ride it and has a valid license.

Don`t fall for a girl with just a vehicle, like I did. Rekha has a TVS Scooty, but for the life in her she cannot ride. We intend to keep it safely till TVS stops producing the Scootys and then we can auction it on the net for a very high price. Will help us meet our daughter`s wedding expenses, says Rekha.

Like I was saying, girls like to live life king size. The problem is, they want to live so in their husband`s money. When we were newly got married (We got married on Sep 8 and here are the pictures), she wanted me to drop her at her office. I did not want another responsibility and hence asked her to take an auto. The Rs 110 she was spending daily for auto was fine as long as I had peace of mind. As for Rekha, she was happy too.

The cribbing started last week.

“Sweetie pie, have you ever been in an auto at 8.30 a.m. on Mount Road,” Rekha asks.

“No yaar. Never. Why do you ask?”

“It is pathetic. It is hot and dusty and all the smoke gets into the auto. And you sweat like hell.” She said seeking sympathy.

I being a veteran in such warfare, knew when to hold back. “But Rekha, it is the most convenient thing….I mean you get into the auto near our door, and get down at your office. Remember there were days when you would travel by bus?”

Rekha being the master strategist, swerved to the right, avoided me…and continued, “True. But I am now your wife…how can I go by bus.”

“So what do you suggest?” I ask.

“How would it be if we buy a Santro. Priya in my office has bought one. It is Emerald Green and I thought we could also go with the same color.” An excited Rekha is an awesome sight. I cannot stand it.

“What about the money? Who will sponsor the car? Shall we ask your father?”

Rekha jumps up at that and says: “We could cut corners and save some money. I have already decided what I will do to save for the monthly car installment.”

“What?” I ask.

“Once we get a car, I would travel by keeping the window up…so I wont have to use shampoo every day, and I don`t need to visit beauty saloons every week for facials because we will use dark windows. Since I would be traveling in AC, I can wear my clothes for two days…so we save on washing costs too.”

By the way, did I tell you sometimes Rekha could be real funny. Just that she does not know.

Here are some things Rekha wants me to keep in mind this week-end i.e., when she is not here. I wonder if her absence is actually worth the fun.

The list she handed over to me is being re-created verbatim –

1) Pick up the milk from the door, boil it and after it gets cold keep it in the fridge.
2) Pick up the newspaper from the door-mat and bring it inside. It is a un-claimed newspaper that is often the trigger for burglars.
3) Welcome the maid with a smile and help her while she is cleaning the house. Make sure you give her something to eat after she finishes the work. (Wonder if my maid will like a cheese sandwich).
4) Clean the washbasins in both the bathrooms.
5) Clean the Computer table. She believes it is the dust around the comp, that results in virus attacks.
6) Buy vegetables from Foodworld and arrange them in the refrigerator. Have a look inside the fridge and decide what needs to be bought and what does not. And then go ahead and get them.
7) In the evening switch-on all the lights for 30 minutes before switching off the ones that are not required.
8) In the evening, light a diya for God, and make sure it doesn`t extinguish by itself.
9) Before you go to bed, take in all the clothes drying outside.
10) Before going to bed, switch off all the lights and check if all the doors are closed.
11) After you are in bed, think of me…and realize how easy your Sunday would have been had I been with you.

If it is dinner time and you are married, be careful. I repeat, Be Careful. Most men are vulnerable when it is dark. And the women know that.

Some old hag who knew little about the mind of a woman had once said: “The way to a man heart, is through his stomach.” How true, yet…how false. He was right about the stomach part…but he is wrong about the heart coz today`s girls do not want to reach out to the heart.

If your wife/girl friend is treating you nice at dinner…my tip is, have as much fun as possible. Coz it won`t last. Your girl will change as soon as her agenda is over.

Try and have a peg of whiskey. I am sure she will agree, coz she has a bigger one coming after the dinner. Place a request for a smoke in the balcony. She might be a asthma patient, but don`t worry…only good can happen by that smoke. She can only find it difficult to breathe and …

This time around, if you drop a morsel of food on the table she would not mind. She wouldn`t care if you spill some water or if you drop the soup bowl on the concrete floor. For, she is scheming to get you when you are off guard.

It is a WAR. I can assure you she is tense. But she wont let you know. So relax.

This is the time when they generally ask, “So how is the food?”

Pretend as if you never heard it. Coz if you did, you will have to tell her that the soup was bland, the rice is half-cooked, the sambar lacks salt and the subzi is raw. And she would not believe you and there would be a fight.

Just keep on eating. She would ask again: “I asked you something?”

“What?”

“Hows the food?”

“Hooo…it is good.” I finally give up for fear of being starved to death.

“Thanks.” She would say and blush. You can tell by the blood that rushes into her cheeks that she is pretending.

And just when you thought the Tiger Hill (of Kargil war?) has been saved, she comes closer and whispers in your ears: “Honey want a nice massage after dinner?”

If I were you, I would say no. But your wife is not Rekha either, so I am forced to say: “Sure, why not. I am still tired from lifting your stupid father`s banana-stuffed suitcases.”

I always remember to bad-mouth my father-in-law when she needs a favor. That way, I can pull him down and rub his nose in the mud and yet not get beaten.

The dinner ends, and the massage begins. She just wants to rush through it. But I don`t let her do that, after all I cannot say no to her request, which I know is coming soon after the massage.

“There…yeah…yeah…right there …the lower back.” I give her instructions. I know she is grinding her teeth and wants the massage to get over soon. But no. I am the master…

“Honey, My friends and I are going to Munnar this weekend. Only for two days…Saturday and Sunday.” She throws in the towel.

“Hey sure, I can join. Anyways, I am not doing much at office.” I would always love a vacation with her friends…a nice opportunity to show off.

“Actually, its just the girls.” She says. She is sure I will say yes…but she wants to make me feel important…so that I take care of the maid, the milk packets and the newspaper.

“Yeah fine. You go ahead. We can always go to Munnar together later.” She is relieved and so am I. That very moment, I decide to booze away the weekend with my bachelor friends.

Warning: Not all dinner-time request are a blessing in disguise. Sample some of the other ones that I had to face –

– I want to have a baby
– I want to go to the beach tom (it`s the rainy season).
– I want to buy that Levis jean we saw at the Trade Center fair three months back. Can you help me find it?
– My parents are coming tomorrow
– Have you booked tickets for your parent`s trip back home?

I am upset with Rekha. Terribly upset.

In our house, there are different sets of rules for both of us. There is one good set of rules for her, and one bad set for me. And they keep changing without prior notice.

Here, I let you decide who is wrong…Rekha or I.

On Nov 18, I was leaving for Pegasus Institute, Bangalore on a two-day Outbound Learning Program and was concerned about Rekha. How would she stay alone in my absence?

To say the least, our sprawling 32-bedroom house is more than enough for the two of us… and she would really be lost without me.

So I ask her to look around and get some friend of hers to stay with her in my absence. The smart (and selfish) girl that Rekha is, she convinces her colleague Meena to stay in our house in my absence.

I know Meena. She is a nice and helpful girl. Always goes out of her way to help a needy soul.

When I return from Bangalore on Sunday, I am happy to see Rekha in one piece. She had survived two days without me. And that was a big achievement, considering the amount of anger she needs to let go in a day just to breathe easy.

Rekha tells me how she felt real bad when she thought of me, and how Meena`s presence helped. It made ample sense to me.

Now, I am a guy who plans his future well in advance. I know Rekha would be going for a two-day training in December. So I tell her, “Rekha, you would also be off on such a tour in December.”

She says: ” Yes dearie.” She is yet to get over the excitement of hugging me after 48 hours.

“Could we ask Meena to come and stay in the house, when you are gone for the two-day program?” I enquire.

“What?” she asks. I had to repeat my question again. But this time around my wife gets angry and pulls her away from me. She is yet to speak to me after that incident.

I wonder where I went wrong. I was only applying the rule that was right for her…. call a friend in when the spouse was not at home. And going by Rekha`s dictate “treat all of my friends as your own” Meena was supposed to be my friend too!

There used to be a time in my life when I was obsessed with cleanliness. Now, I leave it to Rekha.

Most bachelors have clean habits. They brush their teeth once a week, take bath on Sundays, and wear washed clothes for parties and what not. But once they marry, cleanliness goes for a toss.

If you are a lady and are reading this, chances are you would not agree. But read on and I am sure you would be convinced. If you are married, I request you to turn a new leaf and stop pestering your husband about his cleanliness.

As I was saying, after marriage Rekha has started finding fault with everything. It starts as early as 3 a.m. I am sleepy and could not careless for cleanliness but she wakes me up and says my saliva is spoiling the pillow cover. She forces me to place a folded towel on the pillow and I get back to sleep. She wakes me up at 6 a.m. – and that`s pretty early for me – and says: “Look, you have spoiled the towel also!”

Bathrooms are a horror. Here are some of the sentences I get to hear…

“Come on…I told you not to take the newspaper inside the bathroom?”
(For the God in me, I can`t understand why she hates me taking the newspaper when I go to the loo. She hates it so much that she does not read the paper. Or is it her excuse?)

“Hey, you left the toilet seat up again!”
(So what, put it down again! Of course, I don`t say it in as many words.)

“The walls are all soap. Can`t you pour some water, or be careful while taking bath?”
(The walls are all soap? Good…we don`t need to buy soap for another two years. And anyways what am I supposed to do? Lie down on the floor and take bath?)

“Did you notice the soap box? It is full of water!”
(Yeah right, I was just trying save water for the rainy day. Or was I trying to make some liquid soap?)

And just when I am done with the ‘bathroom bashing` I am in the dressing room trying on my new CharagDin shirt (I am lying, I buy only cheap ones) when she barges in and says: “Just look at your wardrobe.”

I turn around and look at my wardrobe. I like the tone she uses…as if I were the Maharaja of Patiala and I were caught wearing stupid brands like Allen Solly, Luis Philippe, Color Plus etc.

“Yeah, I saw…what is wrong?” I ask.

“Now, look at mine. Everything is washed, ironed and kept properly,” she says.

“Yeah,” I reluctantly agree. More because, I am late for office and I also need to squeeze in that smoke that she does not know about.

Now we move on to the breakfast table, where I get scolded for being magnanimous enough to drop a cereal for the ants that have formed a cantonment in my house. I also get berated for not keeping my helmet clean, for not washing the dishes I use, for leaving the water bottle un-capped. Anything I do in my house needs to be done in another way – the supposedly cleaner way.

Now, I am all dressed up and ready to leave. I am happy that I can be myself for another 9 hours – that`s the time I spend in my office. When I close the door behind me, I hear her shout: “Look at the mess your shoes have done to the floor?”

I grind my teeth, promising myself that I will also make her life hell, and walk into the sunset….

I have always wanted to become a World-renown poet. But lack of vocabulary (poets should know words that the common folk don`t understand) and lack of command over grammar (poets need to understand it fully before they can go ahead and break the rules) ensured that I would end up having a blog.

Here is an attempt at turning into a poet. Let me know if a book titled ‘Complete Works of Jamshed V Rajan` will ever be published?

Title: Poise Personified

I sit beside a plant,
Watching a half-dead ant.
I sit with my conscience clear,
Or is it the gulped beer?

I want to write,
About the World so bright.
So clear, so serene, so white.
F#$@! Who switched off the light?

I want to write about the World,
Something straight, not swirled.
Something that will change the World,
Something that won`t return when hurled.

But is blogging writing?
Or is it plain back-biting?
Though, igniting, indicting & inviting,
My blog is pure re-writing!

(I know the poem has got nothing to do with the title..‘Poise Personified.` But didn’t it sound neat?)